Might Have Beens
by Tsukiori
Summary: Tsunade decides she should leave the village. The last person she'd ever expect offers her advice. Tsunade/Orochi


Might Have Beens

Even after the three of them had gone their separate ways, they always kept in touch. Once in a while. When it occurred to them to do so. Tsunade had heard from their old teacher, Sarutobi-sensei that Orochi was in from his last mission. She had deiced, in the interest of preserving the old teammate comradery, to send a rather imperious note (via the intern she was most pissed at at the moment) for him to take her to dinner after her shift at the hospital was over. This was how she often invited her former teammate to dinner. Sometimes he would take offense at the order and not show up. Most times he would take offense and show up to tell her off over dinner (or sake or beer).

The shift had been particularly rough. Not so much the influx of patients as her having to come up with excuses not to see certain cases. When she changed clothes and made her way to the main entrance Orochi was waiting for her, the picture of impatience and simmering annoyance. "Since you're paying you can pick the restaurant." She flashed him her cockiest smile, the one that made him narrow his strange eyes and grit his teeth. She hurriedly looped her arm through his before he could spin around and march off in indignation. "Just make sure that they have a good bar." She added.

He had opened his mouth to say something sharp and witty and cruel. Then snapped it shut with a click. She looked up at him shocked. He was never one to suffer indignities in silence. He must have seen something on her face: the circles under her eyes, the pallor, the thinness. She wasn't surprised that he had noticed, more that he had noticed and decided to restrain his tongue. He was never one for social niceties. But he shrugged, tensed his arm slightly to show that she was still allowed to walk arm in arm with his highness, and led her toward the door.

The drink selection was fabulous. And very expensive. Usually when she announced that he or Jiraiya were paying she would be taken to the seediest, cheapest establishment in the area. But this was almost upscale. Maybe he thought she was dying. "I have a problem." She confided softly, talking more to her glass of pricey liquor then to him.

"I figured as much." He cut savagely into his steak. "Have the loan sharks finally caught up to you?"

She choked on her drink. Furious brown eyes met his slitted ones. Was that a smirk hovering in the corner of his lips? That was definitely amusement dancing in his eyes. The bastard had made a joke. She kicked at him under the table, more out of reflex and to buy her time to hide her puzzlement. She must look REALLY bad if Orochimaru of all people was trying to cheer her up.

In pushing his chair back to avoid her foot connecting with his shin, he had upset his wine glass and some had sloshed on his shirt sleeve. He cursed and began to try to mop up the spreading stain with the napkin. It looked like…Tsunade hurriedly turned her head aside, closed her eyes tightly, willed the nausea to pass.

"I'm thinking of leaving the village." she blurted out.

Silence. The rustling sound of the cloth had stopped.

She took a breath. Held it. Released it slowly.

"I see." Her eyes were still closed. She heard the wine glass being picked up, a swallow, the glass being set back down with a very hard thunk.

"Why?"

She opened her eyes. "I've gotten… Since my Dan's death I've developed an illness."

"What kind of illness?" Was it her imagination or was his voice a little too sharp on the last word? Maybe he really had thought she was dying, hence the quick acquiescence to dinner and the fancy locale.

"It's nothing. It's in my head. I've developed a phobia."

"A phobia."

"Yes."

"To what?"

She took a drink and said the word into her glass.

An angry sigh. "You know I couldn't hear you."

It was her turn to put her glass down a little too hard on the table. "To blood. I've gotten a phobia to blood. Ever since Dan died. The sight of it makes me sick. If I look at it too long I even pass out sometimes." She bit her lip to keep any more words from spilling out.

She thought nothing could have ever shocked Orochi. Or at least, make his face register that shock.

"But you're a doctor."

She nodded, tense. Sarutobi-sensei would have said nothing. He would have just lent her his silent support and faith that things would get better.

"You're a NINJA." Orochi's voice rose, incredulous.

She nodded again. Jiraiya would have gaped at her for a moment and then thrown himself at her, trying to comfort with hugs and offers of booze (probably copping a feel to lighten the mood) until she would have to render him unconscious.

But this was Orochi. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

"The hell you didn't. Were people not paying you enough attention, Tsunade-hime? You had to…"

"I would stop if I were you."

"Sorry, but you confide this, this petty made up illness to me and expect me to cry with you and hold your hand? Get over it."

"I can't. That's why I'm…"

"Running away? Very mature. Only to be expected from one of the legendary Sennin I guess. How long will you stay away? How long before you figure the medics of Konoha will be on their knees begging you to come back and you can waltz home to a parade…"

"SHUT UP!" Somewhere in there they had both stood up, knocking their chairs over. Her hand was fisted in his shirt and she noted with a start that his hand was also tangled in her shirt.

"What did you expect me to say? Me. You should have gone to Sensei or the idiot." He let his breath out in an angry hiss. "Your note and your face. The way you look." The hand not clenched in her shirt ghosted across her face, pushed a stray lock behind her ear. "I thought…I was so…But no, it was this." He sneered. "I should have known. The Princess of the Sennin lives up to her spoiled reputation."

"It wasn't on purpose." She could feel tears start to course down her cheeks. Damn him.

"Nothing is ever NOT on purpose." His face was harsh, his tone harsher. But his free hand was still lingering over her face, his thumb brushing away the tears. He let his fist relax. She also released him, stepped back, jerked her face away from his hand. It stayed extended between them for a moment, before falling to drum on the table top. "And if you run away, if you leave Konoha, do you really think you can get over it? Do you think leaving will bring Dan back or make you stop feeling guilty?"

"Leave me alone." She couldn't look at him. And she felt so tired all of a sudden. So very very tired.

"You could have gone to Sensei. You should have gone to Jiraiya. But you came to me. You know me better than anyone. You came to me because you didn't want to be coddled." He cupped her face in both hands. He was holding her so tightly it hurt. A small shake and she was forced to meet his eyes.

"What would you do Orochi?"

"Stay. Fight it. You said yourself it's all in your head. You will only get over this if you want to get over it. If you try to. Anything else-" He shook his head. "Anything else and you are just giving up."

"So harsh."

A small, grim smile. "That's me."

They fell silent then. His hands still on her face, her own clutching the table so hard it creaked.

"What now?"

-----

She waited until he left on a mission that was supposed to last a week or two and then slipped out of Konoha like the coward she was.

-----

It had been a few years since she ran away. Maybe thirty-two was a little too old to call it 'running away from home', but that's exactly what it had felt like. What it still felt like.

She was sprawled over a bed in a seedy hotel room having squandered what little money she had on booze and a horse that had thrown a shoe in the middle of what could have been a very lucrative race. Shizune, a very promising medic-nin that had tracked her down and begged to be her slave, that is, apprentice, had run off to beg money from a friend and wasn't expected to be back for another day. This was all fine to Tsunade. She liked Shizune and her company, but sometimes she liked solitude more. When the alcohol took her to that shivery, hazy country that hovered on the edge of sleep she felt almost normal. Felt almost how she felt when Dan was alive.

Which was why she was miffed when the knock on the door ruined her blissful trance. It brought her back to being Tsunade, failed genius, joke of a legend. Grumbling she got up to answer the door. If it was that debt collector she was going to break both his arms this time.

She opened the door, combing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to look decent and then froze. Her first thought was something along the lines of, my god he hasn't aged a day. Judging by his equally shocked face and lingering stare, he was thinking the same thing.

"Orochi."

He nodded jerkily, annoyed at her stating the obvious. Well, nice to see his curtness hadn't changed either. She stepped aside to let him into the room. That seemed to take him by surprise. He stepped back. "You haven't heard?"

"Haven't heard what?" Her turn to be annoyed now.

He hesitated. "The news from Konoha."

She followed him into the hall, her hand shooting out to fasten on his upper arm to keep him from retreating. She could see him better now. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was tangled, his clothes dirty and torn in places. His clothes…She frowned. She had never seen him without his vest. Not since he had gotten the damn thing. Where was it now? And he wasn't wearing his headband either…

"Tsunade."

"Sarutobi-sensei? Did something happen to Sarutobi-sensei? It's not…Is it Jiraiya?" Panic began to set in. She shook him slightly.

"No, they're fine. They're both fine."

"Then why are you…" She made a confused gesture at him, taking in his appearance, his lack of ninja clothing.

He was in her arms then, face buried in the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

"Orochi, what happened?"

But he was pushing her into the room, closing the door behind them. She was still hovering between being annoyed and being terrified.

"Hush." He whispered into her ear. His voice still the husky timber she remembered. The hands on her body were still the same too. "Please." He added. And because she had never heard him ask for something in her life, because she knew that something was horribly horribly wrong and didn't want to face it, she let him pick her up and lay her on the bed.

She didn't think he slept the entire night. She would drift off with his eyes on her face and wake up to them still watching her intently.

The sky was beginning to lighten. She could tell by his edginess that he would probably leave with the dawn. She sprawled on the bed, his hand on her thigh. She wondered if she could fall back asleep, not have to be awake for the awkward goodbye that was sure to occur. She had never been good with goodbyes.

"Tsunade." Damn him. Couldn't he let her have this?

"Huh?"

She could hear the smirk. He had always liked to tease her about not being a morning person.

"I'd wear it, you know."

"Wha-?" She cracked an eye open. He was staring at her chest. Oh.

Her fingers came up to clutch the necklace she never took off. "It's cursed."

"Still." A small smile hovered on his lips. "If you gave it to me, I would wear it." His finger traced the chain.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. As near to a kiss as he had ever given her and the moment was suddenly too tender, too sweet and bitter and she thought she might start weeping. But he had rolled over her, gotten out of bed and was beginning to get his clothes on.

"Wait." She whispered as his hand was on the doorknob. She thought he wouldn't have heard her, but he did. He paused, not looking back. She got out of bed, not caring that she was naked. "Orochi." He turned then, hands settling on her shoulders. She titled her head back, not knowing what she was doing until she was kissing him. Their first kiss and it was to say goodbye. She couldn't stop the tears then and it was her turn to bury her face in his shoulder.

"A week." His voice was so low as to be a growl. He kissed her again, fiercely almost painful. "Wait one week. If you still…If you possibly could..." His eyes were searching her face, she didn't know for what. "If you still want to give me this," he gestured at her necklace, but she thought the movement might have encompassed her body, herself, "find me in a week."

"How will I find you?"

The annoyed smirk she knew so well, "You can find me. You of all people."

"Ok." She nodded, combed her fingers through his hair, tugged his jacket into place. "See you in a week then." She kissed him again. She couldn't bear to see the look of pain on his face chased by hope, and that had been the most painful of all for her to see, that hope. And then he was gone. She closed the door, walked back to the bed and sat down. She didn't cry. She refused to cry. One week. She had to wait just one week.

When they finally did meet again it was twenty years later.


End file.
